THURSDAY.

I now proceed with my tale. At breakfast-time, when every one was sat,

Sir Jacob began to call out for Lady Jenny. "But," said he, "I'll have

none of your girl, nephew: although the chair at the tea-table is left

for somebody."--"No," said Mr. B., "we'll get Lady Jenny to supply

Mrs. B.'s place, since you don't care to see her."--"With all my

heart," replied he.--"But, uncle," said Mr. B., "have you really no

desire, no curiosity to see the girl I have married?"--"No, none at

all, by my soul."

Just then I came in, and paying my compliments to the company, and to

Sir Jacob--"Shall I," said I, "supply Mrs. B.'s place in her

absence?" And down I sat. After breakfast, and the servants were

withdrawn--"Lady Jenny," said Lady Davers, "you are a young lady, with

all the advantages of birth and descent, and some of the best blood

in the kingdom runs in your veins; and here Sir Jacob Swynford is

your great admirer; cannot _you_, from whom it will come with a double

grace, convince him that he acts unkindly at my brother's house, to

keep the person he has thought worthy of making the mistress of it,

out of company? And let us know your opinion, whether my

brother himself does right, to comply with such an unreasonable

distaste?"--"Why, how now, Lady Davers! This from you! I did not

expect it!"

"My uncle," said Mr. B., "is the only person in the kingdom that I

would have humoured thus: and I made no doubt, when he saw how willing

I was to oblige him in such a point, he would have acted a more

generous part than he has yet done.--But, Lady Jenny, what say you to

my sister's questions?"

"If I must speak my mind," replied I, "I should take the liberty to

be very serious with Sir Jacob, and to say, that when a thing is done,

and cannot be helped, he should take care how he sows the seeds of

indifference and animosity between man and wife, and makes a gentleman

dissatisfied with his choice, and perhaps unhappy as long as he

lives."--"Nay, Miss," said he, "if all are against me, and you, whose

good opinion I value most, you may e'en let the girl come, and sit

down.--If she is but half as pretty, and half as wise, and modest, as

you, I shall, as it cannot be helped, as you say, be ready to think

better of the matter. For 'tis a little hard, I must needs say, if she

has hitherto appeared before all the good company, to keep her out of

the way on my account."--"Really, Sir Jacob," said the countess, "I

have blushed for you more than once on this occasion. But the mistress

of this house is more than half as wise, and modest, and lovely: and

in hopes you will return me back some of the blushes I have lent

you, see _there_, in my daughter Jenny, whom you have been so justly

admiring, the mistress of the house, and the lady with the Pagan

name." Sir Jacob sat aghast, looking at us all in turn, and then cast

his eyes on the floor. At last, up he got, and swore a sad oath: "And

am I thus tricked and bamboozled," that was his word; "am I? There's

no bearing this house, nor her presence, now, that's certain; and I'll

begone."

Mr. B. looking at me, and nodding his head towards Sir Jacob, as he

was in a flutter to begone, I rose from my chair, and went to him, and

took his hand. "I hope, Sir Jacob, you will be able to bear _both_,

when you shall see no other difference but that of descent, between

the supposed Lady Jenny you so kindly praised, and the girl your

dear nephew has so much exalted."--"Let me go," said he; "I am most

confoundedly bit. I cannot look you in the face! By my soul, I cannot!

For 'tis impossible you should forgive me."--"Indeed it is not, Sir;

you have done nothing but what I can forgive you for, if your dear

nephew can; for to him was the wrong, if any, and I am sure he

can overlook it. And for his sake, to the uncle of so honoured a

gentleman, to the brother of my late good lady, I can, with a bent

knee, _thus_, ask your blessing, and your excuse for joining to keep

you in this suspense."--"Bless you!" said he, and stamped--"Who can

choose but bless you?"-and he kneeled down, and wrapped his arms about

me.--"But, curse me," that was his strange word, "if ever I was so

touched before!" My dear Mr. B., for fear my spirits should be too

much affected (for the rough baronet, in his transport, had bent me

down lower than I kneeled), came and held my arm; but permitted Sir

Jacob to raise me; only saying, "How does my angel? Now she has made

this conquest, she has completed all her triumphs."--"Angel, did

you call her?--I'm confounded with her goodness, and her sweet

carriage!--Rise, and let me see if I can stand myself! And, believe

me, I am sorry I have acted thus so much like a bear; and the more I

think of it, the more I shall be ashamed of myself." And the tears, as

he spoke, ran down his rough cheeks; which moved me much; for to see a

man with so hard a countenance weep, was a touching sight.

Mr. H. putting his handkerchief to his eyes, his aunt said, "What's

the matter, Jackey?"--"I don't know how 'tis," answered he; "but

here's strange doings, as ever I knew--For, day after day, one's

ready to cry, without knowing whether it be for joy or sorrow!--What

a plague's the matter with me, I wonder!" And out he went, the two

ladies, whose charming eyes, too, glistened with pleasure, smiling

at the effect the scene had upon Mr. H. and at what he said.--"Well,

Madam," said Sir Jacob, approaching me; for I had sat down, but then

stood up--"You will forgive me; and from my heart I wish you joy. By

my soul I do,"--and saluted me.--"I could not have believed there had

been such a person breathing. I don't wonder at my nephew's loving

you!--And you call her sister, Lady Davers, don't you?--If you do,

I'll own her for my niece."

"Don't I!--Yes, I do," said she, coming to me, "and am proud so to

call her. And this I tell you, for _your_ comfort, though to _my own

shame_, that I used her worse than you have done, before I knew her

excellence; and have repented of it ever since."

I bowed to her ladyship, and kissed her hand--"My dearest lady," said

I, "you have made me such rich amends since, that I am sure I may say,

'_It was good for me that I was afflicted!_'"--"Why, nephew, she has

the fear of God, I perceive, before her eyes too! I'm sure I've heard

those words. They are somewhere in the Scripture, I believe!--Why, who

knows but she may be a means to save your soul!--Hey, you know!"--"Ay,

Sir Jacob, she'll be a means to save a hundred souls, and might go a

great way to save yours if you were to live with her but one month."

"Well, but, nephew, I hope you forgive me too; for now I think of

it, I never knew you take any matter so patiently in my life."--"I

knew," said Mr. B., "that every extravagance you insisted upon, was

heightening my charmer's triumph, and increasing your own contrition;

and, as I was not _indeed_ deprived of her company, I could bear with

every thing you said or did--Yet, don't you remember my caution, that

the less you said against her, the less you'd have to unsay, and the

less to repent of!"

"I do; and let me ride out, and call myself to account for all I have

said against her, in her own hearing; and when I can think of but one

half, and how she has taken it, by my soul, I believe 'twill make me

_more_ than half mad."

At dinner (when we had Mr. Williams's company), the baronet told

me, he admired me now, as much as when he thought me Lady Jenny; but

complained of the trick put upon him by us all, and seemed now and

then a little serious upon it.

He took great notice of the dexterity which he imputed to me, in

performing the honours of the table. And every now and then, he lifted

up his eyes--"Very clever.--Why, Madam, you seem to me to be born to

these things!--I will be helped by nobody but you--And you'll have a

task of it, I can tell you; for I have a whipping stomach, and were

there fifty dishes, I always taste of every one." And, indeed, John

was in a manner wholly employed in going to and fro between the

baronet and me, for half an hour together.--He went from us afterwards

to Mrs. Jervis, and made her answer many questions about me, and how

all these matters had _come about_, as he phrased it; and returning,

when we drank coffee, said, "I have been _confabbing_ with Mrs.

Jervis, about you, niece. I never heard the like! She says you can

play on the harpsichord, and sing too; will you let a body have a tune

or so? My Mab can play pretty well, and so can Dolly; I'm a judge of

music, and would fain hear you." I said, if he was a judge, I should

be afraid to play before him; but I would not be asked twice, after

our coffee. Accordingly he repeated his request. I gave him a tune,

and, at his desire, sung to it: "Od's my life," said he, "you do it

purely!--But I see where it is. My girls have got _my_ fingers!" Then

he held both hands out, and a fine pair of paws shewed he. "Plague

on't, they touch two keys at once; but those slender and nimble

fingers, how they sweep along! My eye can't follow 'em--Whew,"

whistled he, "they are here and there, and every where at once!--Why,

nephew, I believe you have put another trick upon me. My niece is

certainly of quality! And report has not done her justice.--One more

tune, one more song--By my faith, your voice goes sweetly to your

fingers. 'Slife--I'll thrash my jades," that was his polite phrase,

"when I get home.--Lady Davers, you know not the money they have cost

me to qualify them; and here's a mere baby to them outdoes 'em by a

bar's length, without any expense at all bestowed upon her. Go over

that again--Confound me for a puppy! I lost it by my prating.--Ay,

there you have it! Oh! that I could but dance as well as thou sing'st!

I'd give you a saraband, old as I am."

After supper, we fell into a conversation, of which I must give you

some account, being on a topic that Mr. B. has been blamed for in his

marrying me, and which has stuck by some of his friends, even after

they have, in kindness to me, acquitted him in every other respect;

and that is, _the example he has set to young gentlemen of family and

fortune to marry beneath them_.--It was begun by Sir Jacob, who said,

"I am in love with my new niece, that I am: but still one thing

sticks with me in this affair, which is, what will become of degree

or distinction, if this practice of gentlemen marrying their mothers'

waiting-maids--excuse me, Madam--should come into vogue? Already,

young ladies and young gentlemen are too apt to be drawn away thus,

and disgrace their families. We have too many instances of this.

You'll forgive me, both of you."

"That," said Lady Davers, "is the _only_ thing!--Sir Jacob has hit

upon the point that would make one wish this example had not been set

by a gentleman of such an ancient family, till one becomes acquainted

with this dear creature; and then every body thinks it should not be

otherwise than it is."

"Ay, Pamela," said Mr. B., "what can you say to this? Cannot you

defend me from this charge? This is a point that has been often

objected to me; try for one of your pretty arguments in my behalf."

"Indeed, Sir," replied I, looking down, "it becomes not me to say any

thing to this."--"But indeed it does, if you can: and I beg you'll

help me to some excuse, if you have any at hand."--"Won't you. Sir,

dispense with me on this occasion? I know, not what to say. Indeed

I should not, if I may judge for myself, speak one _word_ to this

subject.--For it is my absolute opinion, that degrees in general

should be kept up; although I must always deem the present case an

happy exception to the rule." Mr. B. looked as if he still expected I

should say something.--"Won't you, Sir, dispense with me?" repeated I.

"Indeed I should not speak to this point, if I may be my own judge."

"I always intend, my dear, you shall judge for yourself; and, you

know, I seldom urge you farther, when you use those words. But if

you have any thing upon your mind to say, let's have it; for your

arguments are always new and unborrowed."

"I would then, if I _must_, Sir, ask, if there be not a nation, or

if there has not been a law in some nation, which, whenever a young

gentleman, be _his_ degree what it would, has seduced a poor creature,

be _her_ degree what it would, obliges him to marry that unhappy

person?"--"I think there is such a law in some country, I can't tell

where," said Sir Jacob.

"And do you think, Sir, whether it be so or not, that it is equitable

it should be so?"

"Yes, by my troth. Though I must needs own, if it were so in England,

many men, that I know, would not have the wives they now have."--"You

speak to your knowledge, I doubt not, Sir Jacob?" said Mr. B.

"Why, truly--I don't know but I do."

"All then," said I, "that I would infer, is, whether another law would

not be a still more just and equitable one, that the gentleman who

is repulsed, from a principle of virtue and honour, should not be

censured for marrying a person he could _not_ seduce? And whether it

is not more for both their honours, if he does: since it is nobler

to reward a virtue, than to repair a shame, were that shame to be

repaired by matrimony, which I take the liberty to doubt. But I beg

pardon: you commanded me, Sir, else this subject should not have found

a speaker to it, in me."

"This is admirably said," cried Sir Jacob.--"But yet this comes not

up to the objection," said Mr. B. "The setting an example to

waiting-maids to aspire, and to young gentlemen to descend. And I will

enter into the subject myself; and the rather, because as I go along,

I will give Sir Jacob a faint sketch of the merit and character of my

Pamela, of which he cannot be so well informed as he has been of

the disgrace which he imagined I had brought upon myself by marrying

her.--I think it necessary, that as well those persons who are afraid

the example should be taken, as those who are inclined to follow it,

should consider _all_ the material parts of it; otherwise, I think the

precedent may be justly cleared; and the fears of the one be judged

groundless, and the plea of the other but a pretence, in order to

cover a folly into which they would have fallen, whether they had this

example or not. For instance, in order to lay claim to the excuses,

which my conduct, if I may suppose it of force enough to do either

good or hurt, will furnish, it is necessary, that the object of their

wish should be a girl of exquisite beauty (and that not only in their

own blinded and partial judgments, but in the opinion of _every one_

who sees her, friend or foe), in order to justify the force which the

_first_ attractions have upon him: that she be descended of honest and

conscientious, though poor and obscure parents; who having preserved

their integrity, through great trials and afflictions, have, by

their examples, as well as precepts, laid deep in the girl's mind the

foundations of piety and virtue.

"It is necessary that, to the charms of person, this waiting-maid,

should have an humble, teachable mind, fine natural parts, a

sprightly, yet inoffensive wit, a temper so excellent, and a judgment

so solid, as should promise (by the love and esteem these qualities

should attract to herself from her fellow-servants, superior and

inferior) that she would become a higher station, and be respected

in it.--And that, after so good a foundation laid by her parents, she

should have all the advantages of female education conferred upon

her; the example of an excellent lady, improving and building upon so

worthy a foundation: a capacity surprisingly ready to take in all that

is taught her: an attention, assiduity, and diligence almost peculiar

to herself, at her time of life; so as, at fifteen or sixteen years of

age, to be able to vie with any young ladies of rank, as well in the

natural genteelness of her person, as in her acquirements: and that

in nothing but her humility she should manifest any difference between

herself and the high-born.

"It will be necessary, moreover, that she should have a mind above

temptation; that she should resist the _offers_ and _menaces_ of one

upon whom all her worldly happiness seemed to depend; the son of a

lady to whom she owed the greatest obligations; a person whom she did

not _hate_, but greatly _feared_, and whom her grateful heart would

have been _glad_ to oblige; and who sought to prevail over her virtue,

by all the inducements that could be thought of, to _attract_ a young

unexperienced virgin at one time, or to _frighten_ her at another,

into his purposes; who offered her very high terms, her circumstances

considered, as well for herself, as for parents she loved better than

herself, whose circumstances were low and distressful; yet, to all

these _offers_ and _menaces_, that she should be able to answer in

such words as these, which will always dwell upon my memory--'I reject

your proposals with all my soul. May God desert me, whenever I make

worldly grandeur my chiefest good! I know I am in your power; I dread

your will to ruin me is as great as your power. Yet, will I dare to

tell you, I will make no free-will offering of my virtue. All that I

_can_ do, poor as it is, I _will_ do, to shew you, that my will

bore no part in the violation of me.' And when future marriage was

intimated to her, to induce her to yield, to be able to answer, 'The

moment I yield to your proposals, there is an end of all merit, if

now I have any. And I should be so far from _expecting_ such an honour

that I will pronounce I should be most _unworthy_ of it.'

"If, I say, such a girl can be found, thus beautifully attractive in

_every one's_ eye, and not partially so only in a young gentle man's

_own_; and after that (what good persons would infinitely prefer

to beauty), thus piously principled; thus genteely educated and

accomplished; thus brilliantly witty; thus prudent, modest, generous,

undesigning; and having been thus tempted, thus tried, by the man she

hated not, pursued (not intriguingly pursuing), be thus inflexibly

virtuous, and proof against temptation: let her reform her libertine,

and let him marry her; and were he of princely extraction, I dare

answer for it, that no _two_ princes in _one age_, take the world

through, would be in danger. For, although I am sensible it is not to

my credit, I will say, that I never met with a repulse, nor a conduct

like this; and yet I never sunk very low for the subjects of my

attempts, either at home or abroad. These are obvious inferences,"

added he, "not refinements upon my Pamela's story; and if the

gentlemen were capable of thought and comparison, would rather make

such an example, as is apprehended, _more_ than _less_ difficult than

_before_.

"But if, indeed, the young fellow be such a booby, that he

cannot _reflect_ and _compare_, and take the case _with all its

circumstances_ together, I think his good papa or mamma should get him

a wife to their own liking, as soon as possible; and the poorest girl

in England, who is honest, should rather bless herself for escaping

such a husband, than glory in the catch she would have of him. For he

would hardly do honour to his family in any one instance."--"Indeed,"

said the countess, "it would be pity, after all, that such an one

should marry any lady of prudence and birth; for 'tis enough in

conscience, that he is a disgrace to _one_ worthy family; it would be

pity he should make _two_ unhappy."

"Why, really, nephew," said Sir Jacob, "I think you have said much

to the purpose. There is not so much danger, from the example, as

I apprehended, from _sensible_ and _reflecting_ minds. I did not

consider this matter thoroughly, I must needs say."

"And the business is," said Lady Davers--"You'll excuse me,

sister--There will be more people hear that Mr. B. has married his

mother's waiting-maid, than will know his inducements."--"Not many,

I believe, sister. For when 'tis known, I have some character in the

world, and am not quite an idiot (and my faults, in having not been

one of the most virtuous of men, will stand me in some stead in _this_

case, though hardly in _any other_) they will naturally enquire into

my inducements.--But see you not, when we go abroad, what numbers of

people her character draws to admire the dear creature? Does not this

shew, that her virtue has made her more conspicuous than my fortune

has made me? For I passed up and down quietly enough before (handsome

as my equipage always was) and attracted not any body's notice: and

indeed I had as lieve these honours were not so publicly paid _her_;

for even, were I fond to shew and parade, what are they, but a

reproach to me? And can I have any excellence, but a secondary one, in

having, after all my persecutions of her, done but common justice to

her merit?--This answers your objection, Lady Davers, and shews that

_my_ inducements and _her_ story must be equally known. And I really

think (every thing I have said considered, and that might still

farther be urged, and the conduct of the dear creature in the station

she adorns, so much exceeding all I hoped or could expect from the

most promising appearances), that she does _me_ more honour than I

have done _her_; and if I could put myself in a third person's place,

I think I should be of the same opinion, were I to determine upon such

another pair, exactly circumstanced as we are."

You may believe, my friend, how much this generous defence of the

step he had taken, attributing every thing to me, and deprecating

his worthy self, affected me. I played with a cork one while, with

my rings another; looking down, and every way but on the company; for

they gazed too much upon me all the time; so that I could only glance

a tearful eye now and then upon the dear man; and when it would

overflow, catch in my handkerchief the escaped fugitives that would

start unbidden beyond their proper limits, though I often tried, by

a twinkling motion, to disperse the gathering water, before it had

formed itself into drops too big to be restrained. All the company

praised the dear generous speaker; and he was pleased to say farther,

"Although, my good friends, I can truly say, that with all the pride

of family, and the insolence of fortune, which once made me doubt

whether I should not sink too low, if I made my Pamela my mistress

(for I should then have treated her not ungenerously, and should have

suffered her, perhaps, to call herself by my name), I have never once

repented of what I have done; on the contrary, always rejoiced in it,

and it has been, from the first day of our marriage, my pride and my

boast (and shall be, let others say what they will), that I can call

such an excellence, and such a purity, which I so little deserve,

mine; and I look down with contempt upon the rashness of all who

reflect upon me; for they can have no notion of my happiness or her

merit."

"O dear Sir, how do you overrate my poor merit!--Some persons are

happy in a life of _comforts_, but mine's a life of _joy!_--One

rapturous instance follows another so fast, that I know not how to

bear them."

"Whew!" whistled Sir Jacob. "Whereabouts am I?--I hope by-and-by

you'll come down to our pitch, that one may put in a word or two with

you."

"May you be long thus blest and happy together!" said Lady Davers. "I

know not which to admire most, the dear girl that never was bad, or

the dear man, who, having been bad, is now so good!"

Said Lord Davers, "There is hardly any bearing these moving scenes,

following one another so quick, as my sister says."

The countess was pleased to say, that till now she had been at a loss

to form any notion of the happiness of the first pair before the Fall;

but now, by so fine an instance as this, she comprehended it in all

its force. "God continue you to one another," added she, "for a credit

to the state, and to human nature."

Mr. H., having his elbows on the table, folded his hands, shaking

them, and looking down--"Egad, this is uncommon life, that it is! Your

two souls, I can see that, are like well-tuned instruments; but they

are too high set for me, a vast deal."

"The best thing," said Lady Davers (always severe upon her poor

nephew), "thou ever saidst. The music must be equal to that of

Orpheus, which can make such a savage as thee dance to it. I charge

thee, say not another word tonight."--"Why, indeed, aunt," returned

he, laughing, "I believe it _was_ pretty well said for your foolish

fellow: though it was by chance, I must confess; I did not think of

it."--"That I believe," replied my lady; "if thou hadst, thou'dst not

have spoken so well."

Sir Jacob and Mr. B. afterwards fell into a family discourse; and Sir

Jacob told us of two or three courtships by his three sons, and to

his two daughters, and his reasons for disallowing them: and I could

observe, he is an absolute tyrant in his family, though they are all

men and women grown, and he seemed to please himself how much they

stood in awe of him.

I would not have been so tediously trifling, but for the sake of my

dear parents; and there is so much self-praise, as it may seem, from a

person on repeating the fine things said of herself, that I am half

of opinion I should send them to Kent only, and to think you should be

obliged to me for saving you so much trouble and impertinence.

Do, dear Miss, be so free as to forbid me to send you any more long

journals, but common letters only, of how you do? and who and who's

together, and of respects to one another, and so forth--letters that

one might dispatch, as Sir Jacob says, in a _twinkling_, and perhaps

be more to the purpose than the tedious scrawl which kisses your

hands, from _yours most sincerely_, P.B.

Do, dear good Sir Simon, let Miss Polly add to our delights, by her

charming company. Mr. Murray, and the new affair will divert _you_, in

her absence.--So pray, since my good Lady Darnford has consented, and

she is willing, and her sister can spare her; don't be so cross as to

deny me.

* * * * *